


Distracting the Guardian

by PickleandtheQueen



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Cuddle, Fluff, Gift, M/M, Romance, Suri/Den, ill, sick, tease
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-08
Updated: 2015-05-03
Packaged: 2018-03-21 22:24:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3706247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PickleandtheQueen/pseuds/PickleandtheQueen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dende and Suri (oc) in various situations - For the Bestie</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Under the Weather

**Author's Note:**

  * For [forgotheparable](https://archiveofourown.org/users/forgotheparable/gifts).



> Forgotheparable, you already read this one but wehhh I'm writing you other stuff too <3

Dende was not used to feeling unwell. At least not in this manner. He was the Guardian, the Healer. He was not _supposed_ to feel sick. It was one thing to be anxious, to fret over the fate of the world and those inhabiting his planet as he so often did - and he had every right to worry about the damn planet, it was danger far too often... But this? This was unfamiliar.

He was used to healing. Not being in _need_ of healing. And his powers were essentially useless on himself, especially with this sort of thing. Dende groaned and weakly tugged his covers up to his chin. He felt wretched. Head pounding, stomach queasy, throat dry and scratchy.

"Dende," it was Mr. Popo, quietly entering the room, "Daimao Bansuri is here to see you, he claims to have a cure for your illness."

Dende made a small noise and a stiff hand slipped reluctantly out from under the covers.

"S'nd him in," he sincerely hoped that Suri's "cure" was not any form of sex or flirtation. He would kill his boyfriend if that was his idea of a - _speak of the devil, and he shall come,_ he thought as Suri slipped softly into the darkened room. "Hello... Suri..."

"Hey, Love..." The young man's voice was unusually soft, extra quiet. "How on earth did you get sick, huh?" Dende said nothing, but offered Suri a rather pathetic stare. He had never been so ill. Suri sat down, the mattress sinking and shifting Dende's weight. "Are you achey? I brought soup," a hand was held up, holding a large tupperware container of a broth. "It's curry lemon with some other healthy crap in there. You know, all the delicious vegan stuff I make all of the time. This what my mom used to make me when I was sick. It really works wonders." He set it on a bedside table, scooting closer to Dende's head. Unfortunately, the movement jolted poor Dende, and he groaned quietly. "Sorry, sorry." Suri gently stroked Dende's forehead, hand cool against the Guardian's burning scalp. "I'm going to sit you up really slowly, get some soup into you, alright? Then we'll snuggle and you'll sleep some more."

Dende really did not have much say, as he soon found out. Suri eased him gently up, leaning him bodily against the younger, heavier namekian. Suri made a good pillow... "I made sure it wasn't too hot," the younger murmured, waving a hand and materializing a spoon. "But it's warm. It'll feel really good on your poor throat."

Dende's lips twitched up in a smile, indeed it would. _The concoction smelled delectable... And tasted just as good,_ he thought, as Suri tenderly spoon-fed  him.

"You're so much like your mother," Dende croaked, swallowing. "Babying everyone around, all while you're the biggest baby."

"Hmmm, I think _you're_ the baby today," Suri murmured, kissing Dende's temple. "Now here comes the aeroplane... _open wide_."

"Suri," Dende would have laughed had he the energy. Instead, he rolled his tired eyes, and allowed his boyfriend to continue trickling the broth down his throat.

"There," Suri set the bowl back down. "Let's get you back to bed, hmm?" Dende did not object, allowing Suri to coddle him further and cuddle down with him into the sheets and fluffy blankets. "Warm enough?" the younger purred, slipping Dende's hands under his shirt. "Here, get nice and warm..." And the Guardian did not hear much more than that, slipping off to sleep, listening to the soft drone of his lover's voice, wrapped in warm arms... 


	2. Horrible Child

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Suri like to bother Dende when he's trying to do important Guardian things

Suri wrapped his arms around Dende, pulling the Guardian close to his chest and resting his chin atop his lover’s head.

“Suri, I’m trying to read about how best to cope with long-lasting droughts. You know I am only allowed to use so much karmic energy per year to assist -” whatever else Dende had been planning on saying was lost, swallowed when Piccolo’s tenacious son swooped down and around, kissing the Guardian soundly on the lips. Suri smiled as he pulled away, nudging the large book in front of Dende to the other side of the desk. He took its place, wiggling his bottom back up onto the mahogany surface before leaning forward with a rather suggestive smile on his face. “You stop that,” the guardian squinted at him, which only caused his lip to curl up over his long fangs. “I mean it.”

“ _Mmmmm_ ,” Suri tilted his head to the side, eyes narrowing slightly. He licked his lips slowly, and watched with amusement as Dende’s face lit up like a traffic light. “Arrrre you sure?” he leaned ever closer, his face a mere hair’s breadth from the guardian. “Because I think you might want me to continue.” Crooked ears perked, hearing Dende’s heart hammering in his chest. “That paper looked boring anyway. I’m not boring.”

“Your father was right,” Dende grumbled, skin crinkling where his skin was discolored by a bright blush, “you are a horrible child.”  
Suri laughed then, throwing back his head and letting the sound reverberate around the room.

“Well, I’m the son of a former Demon King, what can you expect?” He leaned forward once more, purring and tilting up Dende’s chin with a gentle finger. “I would love to show you just how ‘horrible’ I can be…” His lips pulled up in a roguish crooked smile, brows lifting as the finger curled, urging Dende’s face closer to his own. “Shall I?”

A deep purr rolled out of him, satisfaction overwhelming his body as Dende turned positively purple. “Such a curious color, my love.”

His lips hovered mere millimeters from Dende’s mouth; he could feel the Guardian’s breath, taste it on his tongue.

“Suri…”

“Well?”

Dende blinked, the color on his face fading to a pleasant, aroused pattern of blush.

“Well what?”

Suri’s tongue traced the outline of his lips, barely avoiding Dende’s skin. Oh...it was tempting…

“I asked you a question.”

The Guardian rolled his eyes.   
“Fine, show me just how horrible you can be.”

This time, Suri’s tongue met Dende’s lips.

“Well, this is hardly the place...is it?”


End file.
